


The Hero (of Ferelden) Went Down to Kirkwall

by danceswithhamsters01



Series: Reddit Prompts [57]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dragon Age II Quest - Demands of the Qun, Gen, The Warden shows up, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 05:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19244590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithhamsters01/pseuds/danceswithhamsters01
Summary: Based on a prompt from r/dragonage.Prompt: What if your Warden was the warden met by Hawke and company during the Arishok attack on Kirkwall?Ava Hawke and company are making their way through Kirkwall to reach the Viscount's keep. Along the way, they run into some Grey Wardens. One of them is very familiar with a dear friend of Ava's.





	The Hero (of Ferelden) Went Down to Kirkwall

Chaos. Everything was in chaos and flames. The entire city was under attack. The qunari were running rampant and sparing not even a single soul they came across. Ava’s breath came in great heaving gasps after her great-sword came down in an arc, cleaving one of their spellweavers, a “saarebas” they called them, in twain.

“Maker’s breath, love,” Anders swore. “Why did you go charging after it alone!? It could’ve killed y--” His scolding died mid-sentence, accompanied by a look of shock.

“Anders? Darling? What’s going on? Talk to me,” Ava prodded. She prayed that another moment where Justice chose to take the helm in a violent and unexpected way wasn’t in store.

The honey-blond mage scrubbed a hand over his face. “I-I sense something.”

Sense? The last time he’d mentioned sensing something, a pack of darkspawn had surprised them on the Wounded Coast while they were collecting odds and ends for the Gallows’ herbalist, Solivitus. She took a deep breath and readied her blade. Darkspawn in the city? Well, wasn’t that just _perfect._

“How many,” she asked, pooling up her energy for a charge. Memories of Ostagar and the Deep Roads came unbidden to her mind’s eye before she forced them away. A gurgled grunt and thump drew her attention.

“Oh! There you are!” Merrill said in a cheery tone after stepping over yet another dead qunari who was both riddled with crossbow bolts and set aflame. “Varric and I lost track of you! You run so fast, Hawke.”

Varric grunted as he scavenged what bolts he could once the magical fire guttered out. “All of this over a relic,” he sighed mostly to himself, giving his head a sad shake. “Isn’t this awfully close to your uncle’s house, Hawke?”

Her grip on her sword’s hilt tightened. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but she’d made a beeline for the area. With Bethany off… somewhere with the Grey Wardens and mother dead, her cranky old bastard of an uncle was the only family she had left. That she knew about, at any rate.

“That way,” Anders pointed straight ahead. “Five-- no, six-- of them. Be ready.”

“Let’s make this quick. We don’t want Blight sickness spreading. It’d make the whole neighborhood go to hell,” Ava said with a smirk that didn’t touch her eyes.

The quartet of would-be heroes stalked westward, eyes wide and searching for darkspawn. The sounds of human voices letting loose with battle cries stood out from the cacophony of combat, civilians screaming and fleeing, and the hum of magic being cast. Anders stopped in his tracks, mouth agape. Four men and two women, in the blue and silver regalia favored by southern Grey Wardens, were in pitched combat with a band of qunari. One of the women, pale and dark-haired and much smaller than the rest of the band, wielded both staff and magic with savagery.

Ava caught up to the mage and shot him a questioning look. “Well, those certainly don’t look like any sort of darkspawn I’ve ever seen. Any of them acquaintances of yours?”

The mage swallowed nervously. “You could say that.”

Three qunari were caught in a cone of cold that radiated out in front of the small mage Warden. Her companions wasted no time and quickly attacked, smashing the giants to literal pieces.

“How about instead of standing around letting our mouths gather flies, we go lend them a hand? At this point, anyone attacking the qunari has to be an ally for at least a little bit, yes?” Ava said.

The four companions dived into combat, helping the Wardens make quick work of their opponents. Once the last ox-man gurgled his last, a Warden wearing a rather impressive mustache nodded his thanks to Hawke and her friends.

“You have our sincere thanks. This attack was… most unexpected,” the man said in an Orlesian accented baritone voice.

“Commander, we need to move. We’ve already delayed too long,” one of the other male Wardens said in an urgent tone.

“Very true,” the commander sighed. “I cannot believe the Qunari would dare such an attack. This will lead to war with the Free Marches for certain. I fear pressing matters take us elsewhere, but we can spread word to the other free cities. Perhaps they will bring aid.”

With that, the commander and four of the Wardens turned to leave. The small woman Warden mage leaned against a corner with her arms crossed and a smirk playing at her lips. The commander stopped as if remembering something. He fished in a pouch and held out a trinket toward Hawke.

“Take this. It is all we can spare, but perhaps it will be of use.”

She looked questioningly at the pendant in her palm as five of the Wardens left.

“A-aren’t you going with them?” Anders asked the lone straggler, his voice in a higher than normal tone thanks to anxiety.

“Nope,” the woman replied, unfolding her arms and lazily closing the distance between them. Once she was close enough, she cuffed him upside the head.

“You’ve been alive and well for years! Did it not occur to you at least ONCE in all that time to – oh, I don’t know – write a note and LET ME KNOW YOU SURVIVED?! Asshole!”

Ava drew a knife and put herself between Anders and the pissed off tiny Warden. “Back. Off.”

The Warden mage glared at her. It took a moment for Ava to realize that the stranger’s eyes were the exact same color as her own. _Mother’s eyes were like that, too._

“L-let’s take a step back and calm down, yeah? No need for things to get frosty. Or stabby. Or electrocute-y,” Anders held his hands up, voice wavering.

The Warden snorted and crossed her arms, still glaring. Ava had to be gently coaxed into sheathing her dagger.

“Who the hell are you? Your friends left, shouldn’t you be scampering off, too?”

The Warden arched an ebon brow as she sized up the warrior. “Warden-Commander Sevarra Amell of Ferelden. And no, I’m not with them. Stroud’s got his own thing going on, I just happened to be in the area when I saw them getting attacked.”

_Shit. Way to go, Hawke. Mother would be SO proud of you for pulling a blade on kin, especially the one that happens to be the SODDING HERO OF FERELDEN._

“You’re a long ways off from Amaranthine, Sevvy,” Anders spoke up. “What’s going on? The Marches are Stroud and his people’s territory.”

“That’s _Commander_ to you, you jerk. I’m still angry at you. Not for running off, mind you, but for not letting anyone know you made it to safety,” the Warden huffed.

Anders winced but didn’t protest. Ava shot a puzzled look the Warden’s way.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. I have an idea of what he’s like. He escaped no less than five times while I was still in the Circle. I conscripted him after the seventh try went tits up. Mage-hunters aren’t allowed to touch a Warden. The templar there looked like she stepped in cat-sick while barefooted while I did it, too.” The tiny woman smirked.

“Did she, really? Step in cat-sick, that is?” Merrill asked with a serious look.

‘Sevvy’ barked a laugh. “Perhaps. Her face certainly looked like it.”

“I find it... interesting that you know specifically what a ‘stepped in cat-sick’ face looks like,” Varric said.

“Tower mousers. They weren’t picky about where they were when they did that. Some of the apprentices tried to train them to use the templars’ boots for that. Some cats were easier to train than others,” Anders replied.

“Speaking from experience?” Varric asked.

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” the healer answered.

“As for why I’m here,” the Warden said with a sigh while unconsciously tugging on her braid, “I’m doing a favor for a friend.”

“What sort of favor, and for whom?” Ava prodded.

The Warden gave the braid one last tug before letting it go. “The King of Ferelden. He’s a dear friend. He wanted me to see what was going on here, for… reasons.”

“Kirkwall isn’t any of his concern,” Hawke said while folding her arms.

“Technically true. However,” the mage replied, “a great number of people who came here in recent years used to call Ferelden home. Some might want to come back, eventually. Judging from what I’ve seen so far, that may be sooner rather than later. What in the bloody hells stirred up the Qunari, anyways?”

“You want the long or the short version?” Varric grumbled.

The mage’s eye twitched several times as she listened to the tale the four of them spun. Once the story was finished, a cold fury gleamed in her silver eyes.

“Need any help hunting down that Arishok asshole? Technically, I’m not supposed to get tangled in political matters, but I’m not here in an official capacity. That and I’ve never liked it when bullies pick on the little guy. No offense intended,” she quickly added, giving Varric an apologetic look.


End file.
